


i have waited for the rain to come

by DrowningInStarlight



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, apocalypse boyfriends, spoilers for 160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 05:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight
Summary: A moment of respite at the end of the world.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 19
Kudos: 154





	i have waited for the rain to come

**Author's Note:**

> title from sun by two door cinema club.

The world was ending, and all Martin could think was  _ Jon.  _

“Jon,” he said. “Jon,  _ Jon!”  _

Jon didn’t respond, just staring out of the window. His laughter had subsided, but his shoulders still shook. His eyes were terrifyingly empty. 

“Jon, please,” Martin said, not even knowing what he was begging for. “Jon, I can’t— don’t make me do this  _ alone—”  _

Jon took a deep, shuddering breath at that, and Martin suddenly couldn’t remember if he’d heard Jon breathing at all since the apocalypse started. He turned his gaze on Martin, his eyes huge and dark, terrified in a way Martin had never seen before. He’d thought he’d known what fear looked like on the Archivist, but this… There were tears running down his cheeks, even as he didn’t make a sound. “Forgive me,” he whispered, so quiet Martin almost didn’t hear it, and took a shaky step forward, almost falling into Martin’s arms. 

“Of course,” Martin said, “Of course, Jon, of course.” Jon was deathly still in his arms, even the shaking stilled. The world seemed paralysed, frozen by the feeling of a thousand eyes. Martin could feel it, prickling down his back, the feeling of being taken apart and observed and found lacking. He could feel it in his teeth, like static too low to hear, making him want to curl up in some hidden corner and stay there until he starved to death in the darkness. 

He wasn’t a brave person. He wasn’t like Tim, he knew, Tim who’d saved the world and avenged his brother in one at the House of Wax. He wasn’t what he’d been told about their own Sasha, not the monster who’d taken her, he wasn’t like Daisy or like Basira. Martin Blackwood wasn’t brave. But he’d been afraid a very, very long time. 

_ You’re good in a crisis, I’ll say that for you,  _ his mother had once told him. He didn’t even remember what had happened anymore, what had prompted one of the only compliments he ever remembered her giving, but he’d taken those words and wrapped them up tight. Carrying them tucked away inside, shaping himself around them like a pearl, _ Martin Blackwood, good in a crisis.  _

The fear didn’t lessen, but Martin wasn’t waiting for it too. He put his arm around Jon’s waist, and slowly led him away from the window. One step at a time. 

— 

It was late evening, inasmuch as time had any meaning anymore, before Jon started responding. Martin had been talking to him constantly as he’d made plans and packed bags, both to reassure Jon and himself. He’d closed all the curtains, locked all the doors and windows, boarded up what he could. The power grid was still up, although he wasn’t sure how long that would last. The internet was down, though, and he presumed phone signal was too, although obviously they wouldn’t know until they went somewhere that had actually had it to begin with. He could tell he was babbling. He’d done that a lot since getting out of the Lonely, but Jon had never minded, always keeping up with the conversation with genuine interest. It was strange, hearing Jon’s silence. 

It was lonely. 

Martin firmly put that thought out of his mind. He’d packed them both bags, put them by the front door, just in case they’d need them. He didn’t think they should leave, at least not yet, but he wanted them to have the option. He’d done everything he could think of to do. He didn’t know whether it would be enough. 

Jon was sitting on the sofa, staring at nothing. Martin had put a blanket around his shoulders, and Jon hadn’t touched it, hadn’t moved at all. Martin sat down next to him. 

“Do you think we should take turns to sleep tonight, to keep watch?” he asked, just to break the silence. There was a moment before Jon answered. 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he eventually said, quietly, still staring into space. 

“What?” 

“Martin,” Jon said, turning to look at Martin properly, “I  _ ended the world, _ and you’d trust me to not… do anything, while you’re asleep?” 

“Yes,” Martin said solidly. “I don’t think we need to do it, at least not at the moment, but if it came down to it,  _ yes, _ Jon. I lo— I love you. And I trust you.” 

There was something like longing on Jon’s face when he said “Martin, I wish—” 

“You wish…?” 

Jon just shook his head. “Can we just— can we just go to bed?” 

“Yeah,” Martin said. “Okay.” 

— 

The bed in the safehouse wasn’t very big (Daisy clearly hadn’t intended on bringing guests up here) but there were so many blankets that once they were all piled over him, Martin felt like he could relax a little for the first time in what was rapidly feeling like an eternity, even though the feeling of watching hadn’t really faded. 

Jon was pressed up close, holding Martin’s hand like an anchor. 

“Martin?” he said, and they were close Martin could feel him speaking. The room was dark around them, the windows boarded up.

“Yeah?” 

“I wish— I wish I could tell you how I feel without anything watching.” 

“Jon…” 

“I don’t want the Eye, or, or fucking  _ Elias…”  _

Martin let go of Jon’s hand and put his arms around him, pulling him closer still. Jon whispered something against Martin’s neck, and it took him a moment to realise it was  _ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

“Shh, I love you too,” Martin said, as Jon leant back a little. “I love you too.” He didn’t say _ it’ll be okay,  _ or  _ we’ll figure this out,  _ but he touched Jon’s cheek and told him he loved him and he knew that Jon could tell he was telling the truth. “Hey, Jon?” 

“Mm?” 

“Don’t— don’t leave me?” 

“I won’t,” Jon said. “I’m trying not to— I can feel all of it, Martin, all the terror and it’s so...” 

“Look at me, Jon.” 

“Yes?” 

“No,  _ look  _ at me, just. Right here, right now. Just, just,  _ fuck  _ the end of the world, and don’t let me go when I try…” He gently took his hand away from Jon’s cheek, and took his hand again. Took a deep breath, in, out, let the cold flow in like the tide at the edges of his mind. Jon’s hand gripped tight around his own.  _ “The world cannot reach us,” _ he said, quiet but firm.  _ “We are all alone in the end.” _

Static crackled between them, but it wasn’t the teeth jarring hum of the apocalypse. 

The air was colder now, the room stiller, but Jon was still warm and wrapped fiercely around him. Martin hadn’t even realised how tense Jon had been until some of that tension eased. He didn’t relax his grip on Martin, though, and Martin was glad of it. 

“Okay?” Jon asked cautiously. 

“I’m fine,” Martin said, and realised he was. “Yeah. I’m okay. Do you still… Know?” 

“No,” Jon said, wonderingly. “It’s all… distant. It doesn’t  _ hurt. _ I, well. Thank you?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Martin said. “I mean that. This isn’t Peter Lukas’s power now, it’s  _ mine.  _ We’re safe.” 

_ “Martin,” _ Jon breathed, sounding the closest to his normal self that Martin had heard since this whole disaster started, and buried his face in Martin’s shoulder. “I love you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr as drowninginstarlights :D


End file.
